Monthly Archives: November 2011

Buddy the Elf! What’s your favorite color?!

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***Don’t forget to enter to win a new Christmas CD by leaving a comment on on this post. I’ll draw the winner on Friday.***

This afternoon I got the funnest phone call. It was from a new reader who wanted to reserve two tickets for the Mindy Gledhill Christmas concert Frit and I are hostessing in two weeks! (Hi Jessica!) Seriously, it made my whole day. It always amazes me that people actually read this here crazy bloggity and I never tire from meeting those new friends who do. Really, truly. Thanks for reading.

AND … can I just tell you how excited I am about this concert?! Gah!

I am! So. Excited! It’s going to be such a dreamy night of music and I’m consumed with the planning and decorating and refreshments menu. I so hope you’ll come. Tickets are $10 until Dec. 12 and $15 the night of. You can RSVP on the Facebook Event Page, or you can email me, or you can call (801.360.1235).

… In other news …

Tonight Frit and I, for family night, ate a gargantuan amount of naan, tikka masala, and coconut kurma. Then we put Buddy the Elf on repeat, which is tradition you know (we’re on our 2nd time through at this very moment), took down Thanksgiving and began decking our halls with Christmas. Frit is the resident tree light expert. She’s really so good at it. (And she’s such a good sport to do it every year.) While she’s busy with the boughs, I set up the rest. And then we do the ornaments together.

This is one of my favorite nights of the year. I love the glow of the lights. I love the sparkle in the ornaments. I love the hazelnut in the chocolate on the stove. I love how hard Elf makes us laugh every, stinkin’, year. I love the ribbons in the windows, the nativity on the piano, and the feathers round the lamps.

I’m just really, so happy tonight. Happy. And tired. And ready for Christmas … almost.

Song for Saturday [Mindy Gledhill, Winter Moon] + HOUSE CONCERT!!!

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We might have gone overboard on the pies. We might’ve.

There was my pecan and sugar cream. Plus two pumpkins. Plus a lemon sour cream. And a chocolate cream.

Quite honestly, there was more pie per capita than Thanksgiving turkey. But by golly, come Friday morning, I was sure glad to be greeted by a gratuitous slice of leftover pecan for breakfast. Fav.o.rite.

After morning pie (akin to morning to prayer), we traipsed up the mountainside, like we do every year, looking for the perfect tree. Oddly (gratefully) it wasn’t very cold with only a light, snowy mist in the air.

We weaved in and out of the firs and evergreens, up this way and then back that way, when quite fortuitously, and rather quickly (compared to years past), we found her. The perfect mix of whimsy, fullness, and Charlie Brown.

And just like that, Christmas had begun. Hip! Hip!

In honor of the newly opened yuletide season, I wanted to share the music video debut of “Winter Moon” by my friend, indie-singer/songwriter Mindy Gledhill. She just released a Christmas album, of the same title, and I’m in love love love with the whole darn thing. The collection, to me, is reminiscent of simple Christmases, dreamy and playful, with hints of delightful quirkiness. Her rendition of “Christmas Waltz” (Track 2) is hands down, my new favorite Christmas song. I had it on repeat for, oh, 2 hours or so last night. So I am quite confident when I say that I think this should be your 2011 Christmas CD purchase.

Find the album here (hard copy, on sale for $11.24 today) and here (iTunes, $9.99).

And if getting to share the music video wasn’t exciting enough! I have a copy of Winter Moon to giveaway to one of my readers! Just leave a comment below telling me your Christmas wish and I’ll randomly draw the winner next Friday night. ***This GIVEAWAY has ended: The winner is Brenda Taylor! Congrats Brenda!

Oh, but there’s more! I’m hosting a private house concert featuring Mindy and her stellar band (who are flying in all the way from LA for the show!) on Monday, December 12 at 8:00 p.m. You’re coming right?! The artist donation fee is $10 until December 12, or $15 at the door.

I’m over-the-Winter-Moon excited about this concert and am already scheming-dreaming the decorations and refreshments! Oh, how I hope you can come. If you have any questions, send me an email.

Now without further adieu, may I present Mindy Gledhill (+ a few surprise guests) singing the title track of her new album “Winter Moon” …

Thankfull

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On Thursday morning I woke up early (but not too early, mind you) and tip-toed downstairs to don my apron and dive into my Thanksgiving preparations. I had finished the pecan pie late, late, late the night before and as I looked at it sitting on the counter I couldn’t help but thrill at its golden, nutty top and beautifully pinched, deliciously buttery crust. It was perfect.

I removed the remaining pie crust from the fridge and began to work it into a circle on the cold granite counter. Gingerly, I lifted it into a pie plate and set to work whisking the cream and sugar for the filling. As I stood over the stove watching it thicken, I found myself so completely content, quietly stirring.

Genius had compiled the most delightful playlist on my iTunes and it was streaming through the kitchen like the steam rising from the simmering pot in front of me. Gray clouds filtered the sunlight with coziness. And crispy, brown leaves tossed end over end through the backyard. Where did this morning come from? I thought. And how did I get so lucky to be in it?

I set the sugar cream pie to chill in all its sugary, creamy, cinnamony goodness and turned to the green beans. They were gorgeous. So crisp. So green. And I relished every minute fingering and sorting and slicing them. I made a point to try and be especially deliberate. I was so happy. So thankful. To be right where I was, doing what I was doing. And I wanted to experience the entirety of each moment, with every sense I possess. And in doing so, I found myself most thankful.

Thankfull–yes full–for sweet and simple moments of everyday bliss.

For color and taste and touch. In them is where I find the richness of life.

For opportunities. And the chance to pursue.

For this life I’m living. Despite all its uncertainty and overwhelmingness. There is still joy and peace and promise and laughter.

For the people around me. And the way they make me think, and laugh, and accomplish.

And for change. Yes. Change. As much as I resist it, I’d be stuck without it.

Thankfull, indeed.

And friends, I hope you had a Happy, Happy Thanksgiving too.

Sometimes I Really Wonder What Is Going on in my Brain

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Some mornings, I find that I am extra aware of the colors and shapes around me.

This morning, was one of those mornings.

Light through the blinds,

cast across the kitchen walls,

in this almost magical way.

It was silent. And so still.

When I catch these moments of deep stillness, I feel so lucky.

Most of the time, life swirls and bubbles with frenzy.

And sometimes I wish it was the other way around …

That stillness was the norm instead of busy.

And yet … busy is where I thrive.

Or …

Do I simply think that because of the culture I live in?

So much of the American way is to dream of more, work for it, achieve, be on top (I mean, except for those Americans who think they’re entitled without effort.). So much of the Mormon way (by the way, I am) is to become. So much of the female way is seeing where we still need to improve.

And I don’t think there’s anything wrong with any of that. But I wonder … is the reason there is such a growing population of people who feel dissatisfied with life, because we’re led to believe that we’ll be happy once we’ve “arrived?” When really–satisfaction comes from being totally entrenched in, grateful for, and aware of every molecule of a moment?

Some cultures are so much better at being present, I think. Wherever present is. Whatever present means.

But stillness, I believe, is found in presence. Even when things aren’t still.

Like the eye of a hurricane.

And yet, I often find myself filling it with the radio, or television, or words.

Avoiding the still spot completely.

I found myself staring at the handle of my mug for quite a while as I perched at the kitchen counter drinking my morning concoction.

Tracing it with my finger.

Such a lovely shape,

that handle,

the way it rises and falls,

curves and dips.

Like the right half of a heart.

Five minutes ago I had the urge to paint myself with glitter.

And not just with some subtle glitter powder from the make-up aisle.

I’m talking, I wanted a paintbrush, and some glue, and tubes of glitter from the craft store to swirl (in large amounts) on my face.

I’m all about the glitter these days.

Apparently.

We have orange and brown glitter balls hanging in our windows as part of the Thanksgiving decor.

(Does the fact that I laugh every time either one of us–Frit or I–says “glitter balls” make me a twelve year old boy? Don’t answer that.)

And I really really want to get invited to a fancy shmancy New Year’s Eve party so I can wear this gold glitter dress. (Because I have an extra $500 laying around. Not.)

And I’m loving glittery eye-shadow lately. A lot.

I also have a date tonight and I really want to paint my nails with glitter for the occasion.

Speaking of glitter … I love this music video/song:

Dear Darling [14]

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Dear Darling,

I’m the one. You know … the one.

I’m the one sitting on the park bench with a book in one hand and a steamed hazelnut milk in the other, totally oblivious to any other world than the one inside the fluttering pages.

I’m the one who devours cold take-out–Chinese, pizza, pasta, you name it–for breakfast the next morning and loves it. It’s practically the best thing about ordering in.

I’m the one who rolls down the car window during a rainstorm to stick my head out and feel the water on my face and smell the air.

I’m the one who hosts dance parties–for myself–in the bedroom, the kitchen, the hallway …

I’m the one who uses punctuation when texting and refuses to use annoying acronyms and/or abbreviations like CU L8R, and I’m also the one who finds it disheartening when others do.

I’m the one who color codes the clothes in her closet and alphabetizes her CDs–after they’re categorized by genre, of course. (And I’m the one who still owns all her CDs, and even a few cassette tapes, because I’m also the one who can’t seem to let go of tangible history.)

I’m the one whose favorite punctuation mark is the ellipsis.

I’m the one who has actually spent a significant amount of time thinking about which punctuation mark deserves the title of “favorite.”

I’m the one who feels passionate about language and ideas and people and finds nothing more rewarding than an honest, sincere, thought-filled conversation.

I’m the one who loves to throw parties. And a good party, I throw.

Although, I am also the one who finds herself feeling a little out of place at other people’s parties–perhaps it’s because I’m not in charge.

But regardless of who does the hostessing, I’m the one who requires a bit of downtime after said party to quietly retreat inward in order to process, regroup and recharge. An extroverted introvert, I am.

I’m the one who collects dishes and office supplies and globes and stationary, and I’m the one who owns a significant number of high heels that have never been worn.

I’m the one who subscribes to the idea of “play before work,” no matter how hard I try to swap it. And I blame this on my mother. She is the funnest, after all.

I’m the one who forgets that a load of laundry has been sitting in the washing machine for days, that I signed up for the neighborhood blood drive, or that I have a television appearance one morning, but–I will always remember your birthday, your big work meeting day, and every detail of our first kiss. (And even though I might forget about that TV appearance, I’m the one who will still make it to the station in time, looking great, ready to rock my segment.)

I’m the one who grows impatient with incompetence and with people who can’t make up their mind.

I’m the one who plucks her eyebrows daily.

I’m the one who thinks.

I’m the one who daydreams of love letters and hand-held walks and starry nights and porch swings and old-fashioned romance.

I’m the one who is quite simple, really.

And I’m the one who is quite complex.

But I’m the one who loves easily. And freely. And big-ly.

And I’m the one who’s waiting.

Not-so-patiently sometimes.

But waiting, none the less.

For you.

Love,

me

p.s. I’m also the one who thought you could use this list as it seems you might be having some difficulty finding me in the sea.

Now Seeking: Full-time Personal Hype Girl

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Frit and I have watched these videos a couple times now during the last week.

And besides the fact that I’m particularly determined to birth a house full of girls just. like. this. I have also decided that I would like a personal hype-girl. Like, a full-time personal hype-girl. Wouldn’t that be totally awesome? Someone to just follow you around, giving you the confidence you need to be you and do those things that you really want to do?

The thing is … I realized this week that I have hype-peeps all around me. Ever since I announced my magazine launch I’ve begun receiving emails and comments and phone calls and text messages at exactly the right moment to keep me going. I’ve heard from people I haven’t heard from in years!-offering ideas and help or just simple support and encouragement.

And I can see that these things, these miraculous moments of “hype,” are full of providence and grace.

But this idea of “hype” is something I’ve actually been thinking about for a while. Although maybe not in that exact term.

Earlier this year I was talking with a friend about being a “champion” for the people around us.

champion noun \ˈcham-pē-ən\ 1: warrior, fighter 2: a militant advocate or defender 3: one that does battle for another’s rights or honor

And I think that in my obituary someday, I would like it to mention (among the other good deeds and charming particularities I was known for, of course) that I was just that–a champion for those around me.

That I cheered people on. That I encouraged. That I reinforced. That I complimented. That I was, in essence, a hype-girl to every person I met.

I think sometimes we’re so quick to come up with reasons why people shouldn’t do things, or why such-and-such won’t work, or why so-and-so would never be able to do whatever it is he/she has conjured up. But how different the world might be if we simply beamed with belief that they can, and should, do what it is they want to do, no matter how seemingly impossible. How many  more goals might be accomplished, businesses started, inventions invented, oceans crossed, and dreams realized, if we said, “That is awesome! How can I help you?!” instead of “Are you sure?”

So. I guess what I’m saying is that I’d like to offer my services. As your personal hype-girl. I believe in you (wherever you are). I really do. And I know you can.

Whatever it is. I know you can.

And … you know … If anyone is interested in becoming my full-time hype-girl, I’ll be accepting applications via email.